Wrong Address?
by neilia96
Summary: Klaroline Prompt: "My neighbour's sibling got the wrong house number and barged into my apartment on accident." One Shot. Rated T for just a bit of coarse language. Warning: Was written at one am during an insomnia driven creative streak so proceed at your own risk :)


**A/N: I saw this prompt on another fanfiction website and wanted to have a go at it. Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. That is all.**

Klaus POV

"Shit." The epithet echoed in the stillness of the dark apartment. Klaus Mikaelson bolted upright in bed and frowned, wondering what had woken him. He listened and heard again, the sound of a woman, cursing up a storm. He pulled a robe around his naked body and left his bedroom. "Fucking hell." There was the slight pop of a bottle opening and the glug-glug of liquid being poured into a glass.

He emerged into the kitchen and stopped short as a blonde woman downed all of the bourbon in the tumbler and poured herself another glass. She hiccupped slightly, looking up.

"Omigosh! I'm _so_ sorry, did I wake you?" He opened his mouth to reply but words failed him. The woman was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to all her curves and white shorts that were so short, they were almost obscene. She was perched on a stool, leaning casually on the breakfast bar, a devastated look in her bright blue eyes. "I'm Caroline Lock—Forbes. Bonnie said it was cool for me to crash here until she gets back in town." The woman slid off the stool, downing her drink in one gulp and sauntered towards Klaus, her hips swaying almost seductively. "Though she failed to mention her sexy house guest." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Um…"

"But it's cool, I just need to stay the night, I think. I can stay at a hotel until I find an apartment." Klaus' frown deepened. "My husband chose tonight of all nights to—" She hiccupped again. "To tell me about the affair he's been having with his slutty secretary." She sighed, turning on a point and making a beeline for the bottle. Klaus continued to stare in shocked silence as she uncapped it and drank without even bothering with a glass. "This is quality bourbon." She commented after she's had her fill. "I didn't even know Bonnie liked bourbon, actually." She sat back down on the stool, crossing her legs. He had an eyeful of her light blue knickers and his throat dried. "She was always a tequila person even though I had to be the one to hold her hair back whenever she'd had too much." Caroline laughed. "I was such a great sister."

Klaus slowly ebbed out of his shock and coughing, he walked to the other side of the breakfast bar to pull the bottle from her.

"Bonnie St. John is your sister?" He demanded and she nodded, looking childlike. "How did that work?" He wanted to know. Truthfully, he wanted to direct the blonde to her so called sister's home, approximately across the street and one door down, but something told him she needed someone, and she herself had stated that his neighbor was out of town.

"I'm adopted. My mom died of cancer when I was one and my dad put me into foster care when the responsibility became too much for him." His eyes widened. "I had a P.I. find him a few years ago and he is living happily with his partner Steven in some suburbia in North Carolina." She reached for the bottle again and he hesitated before handing it to her.

"Before you continue drinking, you should know that you have the wrong house." Caroline squinted, but then realization dawned. "Yes love. Bonnie St. John lives on 223 Main Street, this is 232 Main Street." She stared at him for a beat before bursting into tears.

"Fuck." Klaus' stomach dropped and he darted across the breakfast bar, taking her into his arms. She stiffened before relaxing and letting out a fresh wave of sobs. He rubbed her back in an awkward attempt to be comforting and waited silently for her to cry herself out.

"I'm sorry…" She gasped between sobs and pulled herself away from him, wiping her eyes with the bottom of her t-shirt. He kept his eyes on her face, resisting the temptation to glance at the creamy bit of skin that was exposed. "It's been such a stressful couple of days."

"It's alright, love. It happens to the best of us." He walked into the kitchen to get himself a glass and poured them both bourbons. He sipped his and she downed hers all at once again. He poured her another. "I'm Klaus."

"Well Klaus, in the past week I've lost a major case at work, lost a client to a soul sucking colleague, lost my cellphone in an Uber, my husband to a slutty secretary called Vicky and my damn mind." She gave a defeated sort of laugh. "Well the last one is pending, but very likely."

"Not on my watch." He sipped the bourbon again, smiling reassuringly. "Think of it this way: things can't get any worse." She gave him an astonished look and knocked on the wooden panel underneath the breakfast bar.

"Now things are destined to go to complete shit." She grinned, downing her drink again. She was beginning to feel comfortably light and warm from the alcohol. "I wouldn't be surprised if I lost my job next week." He shook his head, hiding a smile as her eyelids drooped. "Do you mind if I gracelessly crashed on your couch?"

"You're welcome to the bed. I have some pieces to finish before my show tomorrow." She perked up instantly.

"What are you? An artist?" He laughed and nodded. "That's pretty cool, in a boho chic kind of way." Klaus' eyebrows shot into his hairline.

"I'm not entirely sure that was a compliment." He answered solemnly and she bit her lip, eyeing him contemplatively. She stood up fluidly.

"Neither am I, honestly." He laughed again. "Can I see some of your work?"

"Well it's every guy's dream to have a drifter break and enter his house in the middle of the night and demand to see his prized possessions." Caroline raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"I've been demoted from really hot drunk chick to drifter." She mumbled almost disbelievingly. A harsh yawn tore through her and she looked at him guiltily.

"I'm not entirely sure when I called you a really hot drunk chick," She rolled her eyes. "But you can see my artwork tomorrow, after a good night's rest." He took her hand and led her into his bedroom, grateful that his cleaning lady had been by the day before. He cleared the unused side of the bed, placing his sketchpad on the nightstand.

Caroline slipped her flats off and climbed into the bed, patting the spot next to her. He eyed her, unsure and she giggled, touching her nose.

"Don't worry; this isn't some drunken, lowered inhibitions decision." She informed him and he smiled, sitting on the bed and curling one leg underneath him. "Thank you for not kicking me out."

"Anytime, Caroline." She lay back, closing her eyes. "I'll have you know, breakfast is expected, hungover or not." She snorted.

"I don't do breakfast." Her voice was quiet, slightly slurred with approaching sleep. "Or hangovers, actually."

"Good." He watched her curl up on her side, a single tear escaping. He caught it with his thumb and wiped it away.

With a small smile, Klaus switched the overhead light off and hesitated for a fraction of a second before stretching out on his back beside Caroline. He was careful to keep a respectable distance between them and before he'd even realized what was happening, he fell asleep.

It was the best sleep either of them had had in weeks.


End file.
